


Ultra Vires

by Koi



Category: Undertale (Video Game), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Crossover, Friends to Lovers, Frisk's Pronouns are They/Them, Gen, I am a danger to myself, I have combined to punerific fandoms, Japanifornia meshup, Multi, Murder Mystery, Not kidding, Other, Politics, Post-Gyakuten Saiban 5 | Dual Destinies, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Sans Is A Dick, first part of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10112000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koi/pseuds/Koi
Summary: Ultra Vires: beyond one's legal power or authority.After fading into myth for thousands of years, monsters have encountered many problems after breaking the barrier and returning to the surface world to live among humans. Some of those problems being legal disputes.What attorney would risk their professional reputation in order to represent a skeleton in court? Well, there was defense attorney whose reputation attracted exactly that type of attention.





	1. Actus Reus Non Facit Reum Nisi Mens Sit Rea

**Author's Note:**

> Just when I thought I was out, Undertale pulls me back in... to fandom. I almost disappeared from the fandom community. Then I played Undertale... 
> 
> I've been planning and writing this fanfic for months. I was not sure if I would post it, as wasn't sure if it was phase. However, after outlining the entire plot, writing over 15k words (not including deleted content and notes I've penned on paper), and planning a sequel that links with the events in this story, I couldn't deny it any longer. I wanted to see this story to it's completion. My posting schedule might be erratic. I want to stay way ahead of the posted chapters, as I've already tweaked plot points. 
> 
> I wrote this story for myself. Although the story isn't focused on romance, there may be pairings that fans don't like and that's okay. If you choose to read relationships as more platonic, I will be happy if you still get something out of the characters' relationships.

 

**Actus Reus Non Facit Reum Nisi Mens Sit Rea**

    : conviction of a crime requires proof of a criminal act and intent.

* * *

 

It was an uneventful morning at Wright Anything Agency - the calm before the storm. Perhaps uneventful was an inappropriate word. With Apollo and Athena loudly playing rock, paper, scissors (“rock” “rock” “rock” “rock”) and Trucy, still unsatisfied with her exploding hat trick - despite it being quite impressive - if not heart-attack inducing - really uneventful was subjective. This was normal. And Phoenix Wright only groaned when confetti erupted from his daughter’s performance prop and into his coffee. He debated drinking it - it was just paper right - but instead moved some papers aside on the coffee table to put his cup down. They certainly made him feel like an old man at 35.

 “Paper!” Apollo finally hollered in triumph as Athena clenched her fist strongly in one last cry of defeat.

 Both were stubbornly holding onto rock, but Phoenix knew that Athena would be the most stubborn and hold onto rock until she lost or until it finally paid out. She was the newest addition to the team, and although accomplished and emotionally astute for her age, when she lost all professionalism flew out the window. If anything, she really she looked younger than her 19 years.

 Apollo chuckled at her apparent, and over-dramatized misery and said, “Well, that settles that. Toilet scrubbing duty is all yours Athena.”

 “Noooo, I was so close!” she moaned.

 “Um Athena, how can you be close on a one on one match?” Apollo argued in return.

 He didn’t receive his answer as a cheery tune beeped through the moment of silence (BOOM another shower of hat sparkles exploded on Phoenix).

 “Oh that’s me,” Athena perked up, reaching into her pockets for a cell. “Yes, an escape route,” Widget, her small robot necklace and empathetic tattle-tale announced (“Hey!” Apollo grumbled).  BOOM. BOOM. Yep, Phoenix was getting too old to keep up with this. “Just drink your sparkle coffee, Phoenix”, he told himself.

 “Hello!” Athena chirped, ignoring Apollo’s loud harrumphing and continuing, “Frisk!” That was a name Phoenix didn’t remember hearing. It grabbed his attention; though he wasn’t eavesdropping, even if he wanted to he could barely hear Athena let alone the person on the other end. BOOM

 “Really?” she answered cheerfully. The conversation went on mostly with Athena bouncing on the soles of her feet and nodding enthusiastically despite the other person not being able to see her response. “Hey that’s great! Let’s go now!” she exclaimed. “Sweet freedom” Widget announced, the little computer face winking cheekily as Apollo crossed his arms. “Nothing important,” Athena answered to the obvious question of “Are you busy with anything?” “That’s great…. Yeah… I know where that is! Right away! Hasta luego!” She pocketed her phone, already bursting with energy. She looked ready to jog in her prim yellow suit vest and skirt.

 “Well my friend is in town.” She announced, already discreetly stepping closer to the door.

 “How exciting!” Trucy replied with just as much eagerness, “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?” She was able to vicariously enjoy the excitement of others. Phoenix did not doubt that his daughter felt just as though she was the one reuniting with an old friend.

 “Almost three years, I think. Haven’t seen them since our applied positive psychology course.” she answered turning to have a full conversation with Trucy as she hopped closer to the door. “Sorry, but I gotta go. I have to meet them in fifteen.”

 “Wait who’s them?” Apollo called.

 “Frisk.”

 “Who’s Frisk?” he asked in exasperation.

 “They are,” was the cheeky answer he got before she closed the door. Footsteps could be heard running down the hall… fainter… fainter….

 “She just bailed didn’t she?” asked Apollo in a slump, a literal slump. Phoenix did feel genuine empathy for Apollo. Today was supposed to be cleaning day, after all, and his last remaining hand just recently covered the whole office in rainbow flakes. He looked around; papers covered the entire desk, except where there was room for his coffee. The old boxy computer was buried under what could only be described as a manila folder tent. Why did he even have that thing again?

 Phoenix chuckled a little, before leaning back to chat with the young attorney, “You need to be quicker than that if you want to keep ahead of Athena.”

 “Yeah, and considering Athena jogs every morning, you have a lot of catching up to do, Polly,” added Trucy with a tip of her top hat, as though she was delivering a punchline in one of her performances.

 “I think you’re mixing up quick-witted and quick on your feet,” countered Apollo, the ever reliable critic. He smiled though, a little bit deviously if you asked Phoenix, before adding, “Besides, the quicker Athena is at running away, the quicker she is at returning. I just have to wait her out.” So that meant that the office would not be getting cleaned anytime today. All was well though; Phoenix probably wouldn’t recognize the office under the layer of litter. It was a bold interior design choice, but he’d grown used to it.

 “Oh a trap! How conniving!” the magician girl commented. Both young adults forgot about the mess and began chatting about possible traps. With Trucy’s input, the hypothetical traps slowly got more imaginative and improbable, using donuts as bait. As serious as Apollo could be, he could still play around (thankfully a lot more subdued than Trucy and Athena). At least once a day Trucy could drag that side out of him… like a sister. He bit his tongue. Many times he had almost told them that they were siblings, but a promise he made to their biological mother choked that secret before it reached his throat. And every time that happened, he felt so weak that he had to shut his eyes tight and take a deep breath. What kind of person kept a promise they did not believe in?

 He scanned the papers on the table looking for anything else to focus on. He thought he could not find a subject that could take his mind off his current train of thoughts, and then he saw a name:

 Miles Edgeworth

 What had he been up to lately? He’d notice his name popping up more frequently, usually making front page. His guts never failed to twist, thinking something horrific had once again happened to his long-time friend. Thankfully, as of late, Miles was usually involved only as a third party related to the main news. He made a little, very little – he was not worried or overthinking it – plea that this time would be the same. He immediately felt like a sap when he recognized that the date on the paper was a week ago and that he already read it. However, the topic of the article was so exotic that Phoenix felt inclined to read the headline again, just to remind himself that this was a reality that he did in fact live in.

 

_Monster Delegation Push for Judicial Reform. AGAIN!_

_Monster Representative Asgore Dremurr meets with Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, Representative Cliff Wulf of International Criminal Affairs, and District Chief Aino Hurst of Criminal Affairs to discuss another proposition to reform judicial procedure for monster related crimes. The last proposition to pass was Monster Ordinance 8 five years ago which permits a representative of monster affairs to appoint an independent investigation and submit permissible evidence in a federal court of law. Reaching nearly the decade milestone of monster-integration into society, MO8 has not yet made it to court. MO8 is only applicable to federal investigations where autopsy evidence already strongly supports a homicide case.  Monster Representative Dremurr would insisted that the monster race have only peaceful intentions. If so, then why the push for legal reform? Prosecutor Miles and Representative Cliff receive more accusations of monster-conspiracy and cover-up for their support of judicial reform. However, Chief Hurst avidly denies such claims, stating, “Monsters have to follow judicial practice just like every citizen. The department will remain firmly against privileging one race above another. If monsters cannot obey our laws, they can return under the rock they came from.”_

 

The story continued on page 18.

 “Hey Daddy,” said Trucy. Somehow, she managed to sneak behind him and lean over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

 “Huh, sorry I wasn’t listening,” he answered with a small smile.

 His adopted magician angel smiled knowingly as she glanced at the article that had grabbed Phoenix’s attention. “It’s okay Daddy,” she assured, “I understand... How’s Mr. Edgeworth? It seems like he is always in the papers nowadays. He’s so busy! I bet he forgot how to relax.”

 Apollo leaned on the couch casually as responded, “That’s assuming Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth ever knew how to relax to begin with.” Their attention was on Phoenix. What did they expect him to say? Why was he always put on the spot when Edgeworth was brought up in conversation? This tag-team just wasn’t fair.

 “... Well,” responded Phoenix tentatively, “Lately, he seems to be more on edge than usual.” He could tell that Apollo had to force himself to ignore that pun.

 He commented on the article instead, “Every time a legal dispute between monsters pops up, I see Prosecutor Edgeworth’s name. Not many attorneys would put their reputation on the line that often for monsters.” Edgeworth would do that for anyone, though. Often, his name was dragged in the mud, and he didn’t exactly have the people skills to dissuade rumors. Heck, Miles insulted Phoenix more often than he complimented him. However, he risked himself for Phoenix’s sake more often than he would admit. Of course, Miles would dig himself elbows deep into the current political mess. He didn’t know how deep Edgeworth’s involvement with monsters was, but Edgeworth’s steadfast belief in everyone’s right for a fair and just trial would keep him involved. Only someone like that could stand against the waves of backlash the anti-monster press threw at him.

He leaned back on the couch and thought about the current state of affairs. Phoenix Wright couldn’t even begin to fully conceptualize the reality of a world where monsters existed. To be fair, society was still in the adjustment phase almost a decade later. Ten years ago, humans were the only society on Earth. Every societal rule was built around that assumption. Then came monsters.

“It’s weird to think Edgeworth deals with this on a daily basis,” commented Apollo, “I haven’t even met a monster.”

“Well,” said Trucy, “You might have your chance. If I can get my act to show on Glamour with Mettaton, I’ll let you be my assistant.”

“Seriously? A magic show on Glamour? Monsters can do real magic,” he said.

“Don’t be such a spoil sport, Polly,” she said undeterred, “The real magic is in the illusion, the sleight of hand! The magic is made by the performer.”

“At least you’re optimistic,” Apollo said, “But seriously, no one ever wins on that show. Ever!”

Meanwhile, Phoenix frowned in confusion. Okay, he was usually kept out of the loop with popular media, but seriously, he hadn’t been this lost since Maya tried to explain the multiverse of the Steel Samurai and related series. “Mettaton?” he repeated.

“Wow Daddy,” sighed Trucy, “You really are behind the times.” Can he not be shamed for lagging behind popular media for once in his life? “You should really watch his show though. He is the Monster Host with the most and don’t forget his DJ Ghost Co-host.”

“I’m even more lost,” he admitted after that bizarre catch phrase.

“It’s a monster variety show. Pretty high ratings. Some talent segments bid Mettaton – he’s a robot I think – against contestants, but he always declares himself the winner. Most people just like the novelty of performing with monsters on stage,” Apollo summarized. He tried to act as though the idea was silly, but he did know quite a lot about the show apparently.

A monster variety show? Phoenix was actually surprised at how fast monster media picked up. However, notoriety probably didn’t account for acceptance. The reception of monsters into society was a slow buildup to a slower realization and even slower acceptance. Adjustment was still messy. Anyone involved would be treading dangerous uncharted waters. Although Phoenix, like most people, had accepted monsters as fact, he honestly couldn’t say he really knew what a monster was. There were 7.4 billion humans in the world and just about 30 thousand monsters. With those odds, Phoenix had a better chance of being struck by lightning before meeting a monster.

 

* * *

 

Athena felt herself practically leaping as she jogged down the street. She couldn’t even hear the small thrums of disapproval from the crowd, the ones that usually overwhelmed her. Her mind was entirely focused on her friend, nothing but good thoughts, happy memories, and shared experiences. She wanted to talk about so many things, but did not know which one to start with first.

Frisk! Athena couldn’t really call them a best friend or a long friend. In truth, they knew each other for a few months and discovered a kindred spirit in each other for the latter half of those months before Frisk’s travels took them out of country. They remained in contact since, but with both their studies and Athena’s career, time sped by before she realized it had been years since she last heard from them. The best part about it was; though, now Athena could tell them how all her goals and plans had come to be. How she handled her first true cases as an attorney. How she brought analytical psychology into the court. How she kept her promise to Simon Blackquill….

Simon… “ _Wow, drama bomb_ ” Widget announced, computer face blinking a troubled purple. She slowed down to a walk. She could hear the heels of her boots tapping on the sidewalk in steady rhythm with her thoughts.

“Our relationship is not bad,” she told Widget and herself softly. “We’re friends and sometimes we talk outside of the courtroom. Though he can be a real jerk to our clients, I know he’s a prosecutor but that is no excuse!” After that small outburst, she toned her voice back down to a wistful sight, “I just wish I understood him better or had the chance to…” “ _This is complicated,_ ” Widget empathized.

“Yeah.”

She walked a block, picking herself up gradually along the way. By the time she reached the small noodle shop, she was strutting briskly. Athena kept telling herself to keep thinking of her friend and it worked. Every thought of Frisk was a spoon full of sugar to her last few sullen moments. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. She could smell the flowers blooming in the park. On a beautiful day like this, when she was about to see an old friend, she couldn’t let all those heavy thoughts weigh her down.

Spying the cart a fair distance away, Athena immediately searched for a crop of brown hair. She wondered if it was still cropped and shoulder length, or if Frisk let it grow, or if they got a Mohawk. But no one was there other than Guy Eldoon selling noodles. She stopped and looked around in concern.

In a heart-stopping second Athena found her vision blocked. Alarms rang in her ears before she jerked into action. Swinging her hips around, she reached for the wrist and shoulder of her assailant. She swung her leg, tripping the creep that snuck up behind her and using the momentum to toss that person over their shoulder. “ _You picked the wrong girl, jerk!_ ” Widget flashed in angry red. A second later, Widget flashed purple.

The person on the floor groaned while trying to hold in a laugh. “Woops I guess I asked for that one. I forgot how strong you are,” they said cheerfully. They looked up and Athena recognized that crop of brunet hair anywhere. Frisk sat on the cement, looking as though they merely meant to sit there and wasn’t just brutally tossed to the ground. They were just as Athena remembered them, a little taller, but they still had the kindest burgundy eyes and still looked as though they were ready to brighten any dark corner of the world with their small smile.

“Oh my god,” she cried in shock, “I just hurled our friendship into the pavement!” She jumped to her friend’s side and immediately offered her hand. Frisk took the help and kept smiling as she gave Athena a “ _Don’t worry_ ” expression.

“I should not have surprised you,” Frisk reasoned, “I guess you could say I was a little Frisky.” They winked and Athena snorted. “ _What a risky pun_ ” Widget chimed in, green and smiling. Athena and Frisk laughed harder. She almost forgot that her friend had an affinity for corny puns.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Athena helped Frisk straighten up and wipe dirt off their nice purple dress shirt. “I’m sorry I hurt you though,” she said, “I acted on impulse. I didn’t need to use that much force.”

“I’m sorry too,” Frisk said back, “I really should have considered how the situation would have alarmed you. I let my excitement get the better of me.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Athena huffed, “Well, this is getting us nowhere fast.” This was what happened when you paired two psychology enthusiasts together. They tried to out-conflict-resolve each other.

Frisk agreed. Picking up their shoulder bag, they nodded at Athena. Perhaps now they could actually get some noodles, as they had planned.

Athena was smiling… until she saw red stains on Frisk’s bag. “Is that blood?” she gasped. Unalarmed, Frisk tilted their head to look at their bag. Athena was almost unsettled by her friend’s detached reaction to blood, almost as if they knew what was in their bag beforehand.

“It’s ketchup.” Sure enough, they pulled out a bottle of ketchup, slightly dented from the fall.

Too curious not to ask, Athena blurted, “Do... do you put ketchup on your noodles.” “ _I’m not judging. It’s your taste_ ,” Widget added unhelpfully.

“It’s not for me,” they answered, “It’s for a friend.” They paused, contemplatively putting their finger to their chin. “I was going to surprise you, but I hope I didn’t go too far. I can call him and call it off if you still want this to be just us. It was kind of an impulse thought.”

“No,” she objected passionately. “I want to meet your friend! I’ve heard so much about your friends!” She cracked her award-winning smile and posed, using her right hand to make a victory sign. “Athena Cykes is honored that you want to introduce your friend!” That better had been convincing enough for Frisk because Athena meant it and she would yell as loud as she could to prove it. Athena was rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Frisk Dremurr is excited and knows you two will get along!” they mirrored with half as much vigor as Athena, which was still quite a lot. Frisk copied Athena’s pose. Athena heard overwhelming calm contention and joy radiate from Frisks heart and that made her smile wider.

They purchased their noodles and walked down a park path shaded heavily by trees. The two friends found a spot on a bench slightly off the path, shaded by some nice bushes and allowing a bit of privacy and tranquility. For some reason, Frisk didn’t look too enthused about the meal. Athena might have found the first person in her life who didn’t like noodles. The more she watched Frisk, the more it looked like they just didn’t trust the noodles at first. After a few tentative bites, they were eating at a leisurely pace. Athena had already finished half her bowl at this time. It was delicious.

“Hey Frisk?” she asked between slurps, “That friend of yours, he isn’t the one that likes to drink ketchup?” Frisk nodded, shyly smiling with a noodle from their month. Most people would be weirded out by some of the stories Frisk told about their friends. They were some strange and interesting people from what Athena heard. Athena probably would have been one of those people too, but when she first heard the trepidation and fear of rejection in Frisk’s heart when they had first opened up about their family and friends, Athena felt a closeness to them. She knew that feeling well and never wanted to be the cause of it for another person.

After Athena finished her noodles and threw away the container, she excitingly prodded Frisk, “Guess what?”

“You finally learned the tango,” Frisk played along with a straight face.

“Nope… well actually I did,” said Athena. “ _Piece of cake,”_ commented a proud Widget. She brought her hand to her lapel and presented her beautiful attorney’s badge. She prodded Frisk again, “One more chance.”

“Either that’s a bagel or an attorney’s badge,” Frisk teased, “I would be impressed with both really.” Athena slugged them in the arm playfully; Frisk took the “abuse” and stuck out their tongue. Their heart hummed with nervous yet still warm energy. “Congratulations.”

Athena’s face melted into one of concern. She was expecting more excitement and well a little more recognition if she was honest with herself. Becoming a lawyer was something that still felt like a dream to her. She did not expect an award or anything grand, but the mild praise from her friend just did not live up to expectation. Well, what did she expect? They knew each other for a few months and have not seen each other in almost three years. Athena was probably the only one on that bench who put that much value in their relationship, as small as it was. She always did that... It was Simon over again. “ _What a let-down,_ ” Widget tattled. Her hands jumped to her device. She was trying to keep that a secret! “ _Oops,”_ said a muffled robot voice.

“Um...” Frisk’s blush deepened. The nervous anxiety grew. They reminded Athena of a puppy that was caught chewing a slipper. “Sorry Athena. I really ruined this.”

“ _Can someone fill me in here?_ ” Widget asked. Athena tried to vocalize her confusion instead of letting the little big-mouth robot do it for her, “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”

“You’re probably going to think I’m some sort of weirdo or something, but I can’t keep up this act.” They put their noodle bowl aside, half-eaten, and twiddled their thumb. Frisk was never large in stature, but they looked just a little smaller then. “I kind of know a lot about you. I followed your cases, ever since you helped the demon Tenma Taro in court.”

“He really wasn’t a demon,” Athena corrected lightly, “He was just putting on an act, but I guess I did help with that case... though I was still a newbie.”

“And every case after that. You were amazing!” they confessed, “You actually did it Athena! You brought analytical psychology into court and it was amazing. I saw all the trials you went through too and always rooted for you. I should have contacted you earlier, like a real friend, and said so myself. Every time I did; though, I convinced myself that you moved on from me.” They sighed deeply. Their brow was furrowed and they looked as if they would tear up but instead they smiled.

Athena felt the nervous energy drum and did not understand. It felt as though Frisk’s heart was beating against itself in self-deprivation. Athena hated that feeling, in her or in other people. It took a lot of her strength not to cover her ears. She still needed to hear something else from Frisk. She knew it. “But those trials were public domain. It’s not like you were invading my privacy. Actually, I’m a little flabbergasted that you cared to pay attention that much... I didn’t think anyone would find my performance amazing.”

“That’s not it,” Frisk confessed. This time they rubbed their arm.  The drumming kept increasing and Athena winced.

“Stop,” she pleaded softly, shocking her friend. “Before you go on any further please stop. I can feel you beating yourself up,” she admitted while putting her hand to her own heart, “I don’t want to listen to it until your heart stops. I can’t focus. So please... focus on me. Then I’ll listen.”

Her friend took a loud breath. Athena heard her heart clearly. It drummed against her ears. Slowly, the beating became quieter. She began to feel a murmur of concern, Frisk mirroring her own emotions. They both sighed.

“Thank you,” said Athena.

“You really are amazing,” Frisk repeated.

Athena ran her fingers through her hair coyly. “It was nothing.”

Frisk nodded and continued. If they kept talking about how amazing Athena was, she was going to get an inflated head and drift away. “I was excited to see you again, but I was intimidated too. I haven’t really lived up to expectations, so I wanted to play a trick. It is really stupid. I called my friend because he’s really impressive and unique. It’s pathetic, using your own friends to show off. I know he will make a big entrance and probably surprise you and it would have been good fun to see the look of awe on your face. But it’s so dishonest. I want you to meet him because he is an amazing friend and you’re amazing.” They straightened their back. Although Athena was still confused and growing a bigger head by the second, she still was impressed with her friend’s determined confession. “Before you meet my friend, you should know something very important about him. My friend, Sans the skeleton, is a monster! Please don’t be scared of him!”

“Really?” Athena asked, her eyes wide. No wonder Frisk thought she would be blown away. There were like a million attorneys but she had never met a monster before. “ _Wow that really blows me out of the park_ ” Widget announced, flashing yellow.

Hearing the little robot companion, Frisk responded, “But you’re one in a million Athena! I wanted you two to meet because well Sans doesn’t have many human friends.” Athena let a lot of information sink in at once. She felt as though a tidal wave crashed into her; however, she was still standing.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Athena finally. It was Frisk’s turn to be confused. “I’m really excited to finally get to meet another one of your friends! Wow, if I knew it was going to be a landmark diplomatic mission, I would have asked you to treat me to something way fancier than noodles.” The tense atmosphere did not suit Athena. She would be damned if either of them left with bad vibes.

“I owe you next time then,” answered Frisk, their heart content.

“Good because I can work up quite an appetite (“ _Like a horse”_ Widget added in sync).” She said this in a teasing voice; however, she was completely honest. Athena Cykes was going to get a free meal and she was going to take advantage of it.

“You’re really going to take me for everything I got.”

“Anytime,” she announced proudly.

A calm silence followed for a few moments. Athena was the first to break the silence, “Hey Frisk,” she tapped on her mother’s earing, hearing the familiar and comfortable jingle as the moon rock dangled on her lobe as she prepared herself to ask a delicate question, “I really don’t know that much about monsters. But you used to say that you were studying psychology to bring monsters and humans together. Just a bit ago, you told me your friend doesn’t have many human friends. Is there a connection?”

They nodded and Athena felt a little swell of pride for putting the pieces together... It almost made up for the fact that she never pieced together that Frisk’s interest in human/monster relations had something to do with wanting to help their friends. Of course, their friends would be monsters.

They let their last conversation settle. It settled until Athena couldn’t handle the pent up emotions anymore and bolted up. “That’s it!” she declared pumping her fist. Frisk jumped slightly. Good, the shock treatment worked. It was time for some good old fashion Athena-therapy. “ _Lo tengo!_ Time to work off this nervous energy. Do you want to know the best remedy for fear is?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” said Frisk while still sitting calmly on the bench.

“Sweating it out!” she said. Hands on her hips, she gave her best lets-do-this pose. “Time to teach you some self-defense. I tossed you over my shoulder way too easily before.”

“I think I’m good,” responded Frisk nervously, hands up. “I prefer to talk with cute girls rather than fight them.” They gave Athena a playful wink. She wasn’t buying it. Frisk might have been able to throw other people off with a playful flirt but Athena could sense what was really in their heart. “ _Flattery gets you nowhere,”_ Widget exclaimed.

“Wai... wait,” they pleaded, hands flailing faster. “What time is it?” Frisk attempted to look busy by searching their bag for way longer than a person should. A few moments later, they pulled out a phone. “I should text Sans and let him know we’re waiting.” Well, that was fair, but Athena still had time to get Frisk up and moving until their friend arrived. She waited patiently. _Click Click_ After they finished texting, it was on. _Click Click Bing_

“It should take a couple of minutes for him to make it here from work,” Frisk said, but quickly added a tentative, “...maybe.”

“Hmm...,” Athena pondered aloud, “What kind of job would a skeleton have?”

“the skeleton shift whad’else?”

It was Athena’s turn to jump. Frisk merely looked over their shoulder and commented, “That was a lot faster than I expected.”

“i took the express route.”

Athena did not know what to expect. When she thought of a skeleton, she could only think of anatomy class. The guy leaning over the bench with a very toothy grin was something else entirely. He was stout, and Athena realized that even if he was standing up straight, she would be taller than him. Two ghostly lights flicked from his eye sockets. For some reason, she didn’t expect a skeleton to wear clothes, but there he was in a light blue jacket over a t-shirt and jogger shorts. Looking down, she noticed... pink crocs and socks? “ _Did he dress in the dark?”_ Widget blurted out. She clasped her hands over the robot and laughed nervously. “Um... sorry. Widget sometimes says things that I wouldn’t say out loud Hehe.” He rose an eyebrow ridge. Woah, how in the world did he do that? Magic?

“This is Athena!” Frisk piped up, “The friend I told you about.” And boy did she make a great first impression... her and her big Widget-mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big shout out and thank you to Zelinxia (Xia) who put up with me talking about this fic for months. Ze gave great feedback despite not knowing much about Undertale. Xia also is responsible for first getting me into the Phoenix Wright series. Without Xia, I probably would not have worked up the nerve to post the first chapter. Thank YOU so much!
> 
> I have one last request for anyone interested. This fic is un-beta'd. Xia helped me with a lot of the Ace Attorney parts. I am currently on the hunt for a beta.


	2. Bona Fide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Sans in this chapter. Sans does not know how to handle Athena. Frisk does not know how to handle introspection. Honestly, neither does the author. One-sided Frisk/Sans feels happens. And these three characters take up the whole chapter. I swear more Undertale and Ace Attorney characters play a big role in this fic.
> 
> As far as an update schedule is concerned, I am probably going to aim for a bi-weekly update. If not, than at least an update a month. I want to keep updates consistent, even if it means waiting. I have a few reasons for this. Reason number one: avoiding burn out. I want to not rush. I want to stay several scenes ahead of my posting so I know that I don't have to rush. Reason number two: quality. This gives me a chance to go over a chapter more thoroughly. These chapters are un-beta'd, so I want time to fix mistakes. I am really happy that people are enjoying this story. I am enjoying writing for this story, and I want to keep it this way.

* * *

 

Sans was only half-asleep really. About the most effort he put into anything was snoring loudly so others would think he was asleep. He got a kick out of it most days. He tucked his head into his thick sleeves and listened to people walk by his magazine stand.

Eye sockets closed, he still could heard the sounds of two quick footsteps. They stopped near his stand. He barely acknowledged the outside world as he went over the same problems in his head on repeat. _Let’s see, approaching the problem one way would mean decreasing LOVE_ (“Hey look is that skeleton, real?” “Shh, I saw it walking around last week.” Heh, the kid actually caught him on his feet? Impressive.) _No known methods could decrease LOVE, so should start by examining the process in which LOVE increased._ (“Ah, yeah, page 34 look!” “Man shh!” Sounded like some kids found the article they were looking for. Sans guessed it was in-porn-ative.) _Observing the process of LOVE increase in a laboratory setting was far from logical or ethical, and recreating the affects artificially was not an option. Ideally, LOVE could be removed from the equation entirely but for that..._ (The sound of papers rustling caught his attention. “This one.” Sans didn’t remember offering these kids the five-finger discount.)

“heya kiddies, didn’t ‘cha read the can?” he said with one eye open. A can on the counter glowed with a blue aura and levitated to eye-level. The paper taped to it read, “ _take purchase. leave change in soup can. –sans_ ” It jingled slightly in front of them and they froze in their spots. Two young humans (Sans was really bad at guessing age), turned green. _Hmm... that was an unique color._

“Sorry,” one boy squeaked out before tossing the magazines back and running. His friend took a moment to shake of the shock before doing the same.

Sans looked at the magazine... _Sports Monthly_. He scratched the back of his neck vertebrae. Seriously, this was worth the trouble? If only the kids knew that unpurchased items were set with a tracking charm. Getting away with their prize from a monster stand was not as easy as it looked. If he were feeling more devious, he would have waited for them to walk a couple of blocks before paying them a surprise visit. They were fortunate that he had a prior engagement. Speaking of which...

His pocket buzzed on que and he pulled out his phone. He tapped it and nothing happened. He didn’t know why he tried. It never liked his bony fingers. He fished out a special glove that stimulated a human’s electrically pulsed skin. “thanks for the hand, alphys,” he said to himself and chuckled. He had to remind himself to say that to the reptilian scientist later. She would be happy to know that one of her inventions helped.

A few new messages from Frisk popped up, along with a reminder from Papyrus not to let Frisk forget about the “surprise” party. He chuckled. His brother spent that morning hanging streamers in the closed off balcony. The balcony served as Frisk’s room when they came back from school for breaks. The kid was lucky. No matter where they went, they had a home with monsters. However, their favorite place in this part of the world was with the skeleton brothers. He was smug about that one. 

Another few messages popped up while he was reading the first few.

 

(Frisk)

_waiting at people park. eating noodles with friend don’t tell paps. he probs have spaghetti at my surprise party_

_can’t wait 2 see you_

_I mean its been fryers since I seen peperone_   

_forever_

forever since I seen _everyone DX stupid spellcheck. anyway we’re at that place.  c u after work_

 

He really wouldn’t call what he did work. Sans unofficially had three jobs. He didn’t get a lick of work down at any of them. The magazine kiosk could run itself. It was really just an excuse to stay off his feet while he worked on his other jobs. The kiosk itself was in a perfect spot bordering Hometown (Monsters had a vote for the community name, and that was actually the best one.) and the neighboring human communities. Unofficially he was a sentry, keeping an eye socket out for any threat to the tentative peace between monster and human. Most days were uneventful, but there was always a shadow of fear in their community. He preferred not having to perform his sentry duties, if he was honest. His third job, well he’d been thinking about that one all day and still had nothing to show for it. Three jobs, zero progress, he really outdid himself.

Putting away his phone and glove, he thought about the text. Frisk did not send a map, but from the hint, he could guess they were at a place they both visited before.

He closed his eyes and a small groove came to mind. He felt a vibration like heartbeat thrum against his rib cage. Not even that far away. He found the invisible string attaching his stand to the park and tugged with his magic. He let that connection guide him as he teleported. Seeing the destination before teleporting, he had time to adjust to the change of scenery before he even appeared.

He heard Frisk’s voice first, “...maybe.” They were sitting on a park bench with their backs to him. With them was a human girl. Right, Frisk mentioned that friend. From this point of view, he could only see a side ponytail of bright orange-red hair.

“Hmm...,” the girl asked in an amusingly curious voice, “What kind of job would a skeleton have?” The universe did not just give him that line on a silver-platter and not expect him to take a bite.

Leaning over to rest on the back of the bench, he responded “the skeleton shift whad’else?” The girl hopped, but of course, Frisk expected him, probably not so soon, though.

He caught Frisk’s eye as they turned and told him, “That was a lot faster than I expected.”

“i took the express route.”

He heard enough about this friend of Frisk’s to guess that this was the lawyer girl. The girl’s yellow dress-suit gave away her profession. Professional attire always fascinated him, style over comfort. They usually seemed too stuffy for his taste. However, the yellow suit-skirt ensemble reminded Sans of a cute little duckling with a blue tie, and seriously, who could have a problem with that image?

Sans also paid attention to the lawyer girl’s subtle expression changes, which were easy to read on humans. This girl had the same cute inquisitive puppy expression Frisk always had. Compared to other fleshy beings, she probably was pretty? He really couldn’t say. Sans developed his own sense of aesthetic tastes when it came to humans, but he wasn’t as interested in skin-deep beauty. After all, a skeleton would not be the best judge in that area. He did notice different qualities that he found unique and interesting, though. For instance, the distinctive spiky bangs definitely added to the human’s appeal. _Heh, a spiky haired duckling with a tie. Adorable._

“ _Did he dress in the dark?”_ a small robotic voice called. He did not notice the small smiling necklace before, but it apparently noticed him. She clasped her hands over the robot and laughed nervously. “Um... sorry. Widget sometimes says things that I wouldn’t say out loud Hehe.”

“This is Athena!” Frisk piped up, “The friend I told you about.”

_That device, did it really translate the wearer’s conscious thoughts?_ His mind reeled from the possibilities. He must have stared too long as the girl started blushing slightly. Skin was so funny that way. Frisk looked at him expectedly. Well, he couldn’t disappoint an audience.

“hehehe... how didja know? i dressed in the closet. can’t tell ‘ya if i have any more skeletons in my closet though.” He winked, because he liked people’s bemused expression when he winked. Holding out his hand, he greeted, “name’s sans, sans the skeleton.”

“Athena Cykes... the human,” she engaged with a happy little smile; however, his attention was drawn to the happy little device that copied her expression as an emoticon. Alphys would adore that. She grabbed his hand enthusiastically. _Strong grip._

Glancing at Frisk, he saw them beaming. Was it important to them that he got along with this human? He had many thoughts about that, but he would put that mess off until later. He was good at that. He just shrugged everything complicated aside. Play nice. Have fun. And maybe he could find himself enjoying his time and this human’s company as well.

“how are you doin’ kiddo?” he turned to Frisk. He liked to think he could read their expressions really well. That expression said that he said something wrong.

“I’m 20, Sans. I know that is a kid in monster years, but still. I’ve been taller than you for six years.”

“not much of an accomplishment, pal,” he said offhandedly, standing up to his full unimpressive height. “but if you don’t want me to call you kiddo, then you shoulda’ just said so.” Frisk blushed. Skin was definitely funny; it betrayed emotions oh so easily.

“ _Aw that’s so sweet,_ ” added the empathetic necklace device. “Shh” the girl hushed before grasping at the necklace as if to grasp its mouth. That thing was even more hilarious than skin blemishes. He had to remind himself to ask about it later. “I didn’t know you were one year older than me,” Athena said quickly.

“Me neither,” admitted Frisk. Sans couldn’t help but to lean over and cradle his head lazily. He did not have much to add to this topic. Time was inconsequential to him. With time rewinding and repeating most of his life, he stopped measuring his experiences. It all just meshed together messily.

“How old are you?” Athena asked curiously. She was not going to let him excuse himself from the conversation was she?

“don’t know,” he said with a half shrug.

“Sorry,” she ran her fingers through her curious orange-red hair. With the empathetic device and her tells it was very easy to read this girl. She seemed to be in the moment, and Sans had to admit that he liked that. It reminded him of his brother and it made it easier for him to give this human the benefit of the doubt.

“hey don’t worry ‘bout it kid,” he reassured, “monsters just don’t keep track of that stuff ya’know.” He spared explaining the melancholy reason behind that statement.

“ _Now I’m the kid,”_ the robotic voice complained, turning purple.

“Don’t worry about it too much Athena,” said Frisk in that one mediator tone they liked to use, “He likes to get under people’s skin.” Sans just chuckled, especially because Frisk did not realize what they just said until it was too late. “I didn’t mean that as a joke.” The way they hid their face just tickled his funny bone more. Athena had a good laugh too. It was official. Anyone who laughed at bad jokes couldn’t be all bad.

“You’re both terrible,” Frisk said with a pout.

He brought his hand to Frisk’s head and ran his fingers through the hair, remembering that Frisk did like the feeling of his bony tips scratching their scalp. “hey, why ‘ya letting me get in your hair?” He glanced at Athena who chuckled a little but also blushed as if she was watching something more intimate. Oops. What seemed comfortable and natural with just them, was probably something else entirely in public. He sighed. He just thought it was a good set-up for a punch-line....

Frisk’s cheeks were turning pink too. Definitely oops. How in the world did humans function with blood constantly pumping to their face? He himself felt magic rise to his cheekbones and remembered Frisk teasing him or Papyrus when they flushed with magic – though Papyrus flushed way more often. He pulled back and stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. The little bastards could stay in hand prison for what they did.

After a few silent moments, Frisk suddenly perked up, “I almost forgot!” They pulled something from their bag. He recognized a bottle of ketchup. They really were too thoughtful.

“is this bribery?” he asked. He took the bottle anyway. At least Frisk was proud of themselves. He did like that accomplished smile.

“It could be,” they answered cryptically. He debated actually taking a drink. Throwing his head back, he took a big swig. “Can Athena come over?” He almost choked on the ketchup, quite an accomplishment for someone without a larynx. “Just for coffee or something! I already asked Paps and he’s all for the idea.” He got it now. Paps was different. He was ready to accept anyone and think the best of them... bless his naive heart. Him? He wasn’t convinced anyone was trustworthy. If he did not meet someone first, his immediate response would be a definite _not a chance._

“about that...,” he said, pausing to look at the human girl. That was his mistake. She stared at him expectedly. Damn! Why did he feel like a bad guy? He must have taken too long because Athena’s eyebrows furrowed together in apparent concern. “well....”

“Oh no!” she jumped up. If he wasn’t used to Papyrus’s level of energy, that would have startled him. “I should be back at the office right now! I bailed on cleaning, but it’s admin day, and if I don’t help the boss and Apollo with the paperwork, they’re definitely not going to let me off the hook again!” The equally concerned device added, “ _I am in so much trouble._ ”

“Oh ok,” Frisk responded softly, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Athena shook her head and said, “It’s fine really. I’m a fast runner.” _Run? Really?_ Sans was still spinning from the girl’s sudden change of topic. Still, he caught up enough to spot an opportunity.

“if you’re in a hurry,” he offered and Frisk’s eyebrows rose above their bangs. They had every right to be suspicious if he was volunteering. “i can, ya’know give you a lift.” He waved his hand and casually used magic to lift her off the ground a few inches.

“OH! A lift! Hahaha!” The girl looked thrilled to be surrounded by blue light and at the mercy of gravity. “It’s like zero g!” she observed with the look of someone who had experience.

“Sans?” Frisk asked.

“yep?”

“Are you sure?” they asked tentatively. Frisk watched Athena while she bobbed in the air.

“yep.”

“C’mon Frisk!” Athena said, “This is great! You didn’t tell me that your friend would sweep me off my feet.” Two against one this round. He was impressed with how well the girl adapted. She instinctively knew what to say to get on his good side. He had to be careful; this girl was making it too easy to like her.

“Athena,” Frisk said, “Have you ever handled magic? San’s teleportation magic isn’t the easiest to handle for first-timers.” They had their arms crossed. Wow, he didn’t know Frisk could pull off Toriel’s put-upon-parent look so well. Hard to believe they weren’t related at times. 

“Don’t worry,” Athena said quickly. He still had her levitating with his blue magic but she still acted in complete control. She added, “I’m tougher than I look.” He dropped her down and she landed on her feet easily. “Unless there’s something dangerous I don’t know about.”

“No,” Frisk admitted. They shrugged in defeat. “Sans, are you sure you can take Athena?” they asked finally.

“yep.”

“I’m serious.”

“be back before you can even miss me,” he assured. Frisk side-eyed Sans and he was creepily reminded of Toriel again. Did she teach them to do that?

“Are you sure?” this question came from Athena. The girl was looking between him and Frisk with a discerning expression. There wasn’t much to think about. His way was faster and more efficient. It didn’t cost him too much effort, and he would not put any of Frisk’s friends at risk, no matter how irresponsible he could be.

“yep. where do you gotta go?” Athena took out her phone and showed him a map of the town. She pointed to a spot and both he and Frisk leaned over to look.

“Is that going to work?” asked Frisk.

“i know a shortcut,” he teased back, actually getting Frisk to smile. At least they was starting to loosen up. A few days away from Toriel and with the skeleton brothers would fix that cautious habit they developed. Papyrus and he were the best influence. The best.

In true hitchhiker’s fashion, he pointed his thumb at the direction they needed to go. Despite a puzzled look, she followed him and leaned over so he could put his hand on her shoulder. “So how does this...” she began, but her voice caught in the void of twisted magic. Before she could find her voice again, they were already in an empty hallway. “...work.” “ _I am going to lose all my noodles,”_ the chatty robot complained.

“are you gonna be alright, kiddo?” he asked seeing her turn green. Nope, that definitely wasn’t a normal color on a human. “you look ready to pasta out on me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she groaned with her hands on her knees. She did chuckle softly, so she couldn’t have been that sick... he hoped. A few moments passed and the girl looked normal again. “Thanks and sorry for the trouble,” she told him, putting on a small smile.

“what’cha’ have to apologize to me for?” He was the one who swept this girl up into another dimension without warning and almost cost her lunch. And for what reason? Other than a passing curiosity, he really didn’t have one. She looked at the wall behind his skull and stood still for a few moments. He had expected this human, from the short time he had known her, to be exuberate in every action. This was just... It was as if someone turned the color off.

“You’re anxious around me,” she said. He could not deny it. He wanted to. He wanted to write it off with a joke, but he didn’t see the joke. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he looked at soft human hands, he saw a layer of dust. Other monsters feared the stories of humans’ power, their ability to kill. Him? He was one of the few who saw it in his dreams. He could not clearly remember those times, but he knew they were real, and the dreams were vivid enough to give him a full picture. Heck he still shuddered when Frisk held a butter knife..., and he’d known them for years (decades if he considered time-paradox bullshit). “I can hear your heart shivering,” she continued.

“don’t know what you’re hearing, but i don’t have a heart,” he said, rasping his hollow ribs for emphasis.

She shook her head. “That’s what I thought at first. But it’s just different. It took some time to adjust because I only listened to human hearts before. So... so I heard a soft rattling from you when you speak, and it didn’t take long for me to pick up on those emotions. I don’t... I don’t want anyone to have to feel that way, not the way I have felt before.” He took a step back, afraid for another reason. It had been a long time since he felt that vulnerable.

“honestly, you have me kinda rattled,” he admitted.

“It’s okay,” she assured, putting on another wide smile. “I understand.”

“you really are an odd yellow duck,” he said with a soft chuckle, “no wonder Frisk likes ‘ya.” He put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath with his nonexistent lungs. “ya’know, there was something i wanted to ask you but let’s save it for another time.” Before he could think too much about it, he grabbed his ragged old notebook from his pocket (old habits died hard), and scribbled on a blank page. He tore the page out and handed it to her so smoothly that it almost seemed as if he planned it.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously.

“frisk’s crashin’ at my place,” he said, “pay them a visit sometime. they promised you crappy coffee after all. and make sure to bug them early in the morning.” The last part was tinged with a bit of bitterness. Going through so much complicated emotions in one afternoon left him worn. Then again, Frisk was the textbook definition of complicated in his book. She nodded her thanks. He hoped this risk of Frisk’s was worth it. He wasn’t completely on board, but he was a little too curious to see how this human/monster friendship experiment would play out.

 

* * *

 

Frisk was only just a tad antsy for Sans’ return. The skeleton was... well no one really knew for certain what Sans really was thinking. Frisk knew him long enough - knew the monster from every dark angle - to know not to underestimate him. Of course, Sans could just genuinely be curious about Athena. Frisk talked about her enough. He would have his own methods for judging a new person in Frisk’s life. They tapped their foot. Just thinking about Sans in a judging position sent chills up their spine. No, Sans was fair and absolutely dedicated to being lazy. He couldn’t judge Athena as anything but harmless, right? She was the bravest and kindest human who reached out to Frisk. She was the only human who reached out to them.

Because they were listening for it, they heard a fizzle and a pop. They tasted a little metal as the magic singed the air. They greeted their friend who walked casually from his shortcut with both hands in his pocket. They gulped. It had been at least a year since they last spent time alone with Sans, not counting skype chats. How much had changed between them?

“heya,” he greeted while slouching down and putting his hand on their head. Frisk sighed and leaned their head back, just feeling the stillness of the moment. “i gotta bone to pick with you,” he punned in all seriousness. 

“Which one do you want?” they asked softly, still too content with the fingers through their hair to say anything above a low whisper.

“let’s just say you owe me more than ketchup,” he said. A few moments later, he added, “so how does your friend feel about spaghetti?” Frisk couldn’t help but chuckle. They knew Sans would like Athena, and glad that she would be visiting more often. However, they forgot about Papyrus’ cooking. They could lose a friend if Papyrus invited her to stay for dinner.

“Thanks. She is a really great person. You’ll see.”

“you settin’ us up? i know beauty is only skin deep but i think lawyer girl would have some standards... like ya’know skin,” he half joked but Frisk couldn’t help but to think that they were trying to gauge their response.

“Well, my standards aren’t so high,” they said. He snorted at the unintentional insult. That sounded a lot worse out-loud. They thought about it for so long, wanted to express just how much they loved the skeleton inside and out. Beyond infatuation, beyond familiar bonds, beyond friendship, their relationship with Sans was different. Whatever it was, it was strong. Whatever it was, it was strange. However, the more they experimented with “normal” human relationships (and they did not want to be reminded of their failed attempts at dating in college, so they pushed that thought aside for now), the more they yearned for that strangeness. The love was there, they just couldn’t express it yet, if ever. For that to happen, they might have to dig up something unpleasant in order to move on..., and well, Sans usually way of handling unpleasantness was to derail it.

Like he was about to do. “’bout that thing the girl does?” he asked. His fingers dropped and he rested his hand over their shoulder. Frisk could practically hear bony gears turn in his head.

“You mean hearing your heart.” Frisk stated because there was no question what made the skeleton uncomfortable. Not even his own brother could always read him when he was troubled. Sans spent years hiding his pain under a pun. It became second nature for him. Frisk wasn’t always sure when the skeleton was really smiling or putting on a show. Even Sans admitted that he forgot which part was an act.

“How upset are you with me?” they asked scooting over just inches from leaning on him.

“not as much as i should be,” he admitted. His shoulders rolled back in a sort-of half shrug. Frisk realized that it probably wasn’t fair that the skeleton couldn’t feel the same level of resentment towards them as he felt he should. “’sides she seems sweet enough. should be good for you to hang out with kids your age.”

Responses surfaced and died in their throat. It really was hard to get rid of that impression of them being a kid. Who knows, maybe they still were one. Their feelings hadn’t changed since they were 13, that time they gave Sans the Valentine card that said “I want tibia your valentine” with a picture of a femur (points for effort) on it. He laughed so hard, saying it was the best thing he got that day, and set it on his bookshelf.  It was a very fond childish memory of Frisk dealing with growing emotions the only way they knew how at that age. They thought that after travelling, they would either grow out of the phase or develop a more mature understanding of what they deemed as a childish crush. Nothing like that happened. They just missed having their “friend or something other’s” company, a lot of his company, a disproportionately large amount of his company.

“knock knock.” He interrupted their thoughts while rasping against their head.

“Who’s there?”

“you.”

“You who?” But it sounded like Yoo-Hoo!

“no need to holler. i’m only on the other side of the door. so can you open up and talk to me?” Frisk twiddled their thumbs for a few seconds in silent debate. That was the last thing they wanted to do. “are you gonna’ tell me what’s bugging you or not?” They shook their head. A few silent and awkward moments passed where Frisk couldn’t look at Sans because they could already imagine the penetrating inquiring stare. They already knew they would fold under such scrutiny.

“well, whatever it is. you’ll work it out. you somehow always manage to find the answer.” They ducked their head, recognizing the hidden edge behind that sentence, praise with a bit of bitterness. He had full faith that Frisk would find the answer; his faith in Frisk’s method was lacking. Not that Frisk blamed him for that. 

“so um... just don’t leave me out of the loop too long and try relying on others, ‘kay?” They lifted their head and looked at the skeleton with a grateful beaming smile. He pulled them closer into a side-bear hug. Frisk blushed feeling the familiar soft cotton of his jacket. Then another familiar experience jolted them out of their funk. The noise erupted as Frisk squeezed against the lump in San’s pocket. _fffffffffftffffffffffffffftt_

“who snuck that whoopie cushion into my pocket?” he said in mock innocence. Frisk could only hide their face in the skeleton’s sleeve to stifle the laughter. They could not give them the satisfaction of a laugh along with the satisfaction of pulling the same prank on them once again. Always a classic. They hated that they loved this. “howaboutit, giggles? wanna see what paps is up to, before he accuses me of hogging the human again?”

Okay, not much changed for good or bad. Their relationship was always this, and Frisk realized that they were very content with this, with the casual comradery, with the complete lack of boundaries, the unfiltered candid silliness, even the unpleasant parts they shared with no one else. At least Frisk didn’t feel like they were choking on secrets around Sans. He already knew everything. There was nothing left to feel ashamed for in his presence... well almost nothing. There was still one line to cross, but unlike other times, there was no going back. They were not willing to risk the contentment they currently had just to cross that last line. They were not ready for more regrets.


	3. Skeleton in the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix Wright is introduced more to the monster community through MTT. He doesn't get it either. He cannot get a break. It is "Pick on Phoenix Wright" Day and a new client doesn't make his day any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it has been a while. At the last minute, I had changed plans for this chapter. I rewrote a lot of it. For example, this was supposed to be the chapter Papyrus made an appearance, but I am now saving that for later. He gets a brief mention. I feel even more horrible for the April Fool's day post. I planned on introducing Papyrus after making a post about the lack of Papyrus. (awkward laughter). So..., no Papyrus yet (THIS IS THE WORST FANFIC EVER!)

If possible, Write Anything Agency was even messier that afternoon than that morning. As soon as Athena returned, she had enthusiastically shared her whole day, despite Apollo teasing her that she made everything up to skip out on cleaning. After another rock, paper, scissors match – Phoenix wasn’t sure what the steaks were this time – Phoenix just intervened and told everyone to forget about the cleaning. Instead, the office was filled with stacks of files and letters: two stacks on the coffee table; three on the desk; and three and a half surrounding Athena on the floor. It was a full house that day, and if anything, it felt most homely with the chaos.

“ _Allez!_ ” groaned Athena, “I’m gonna go cross-eyed. Apollo, can you take this note for me. You’re a lot better at making out this mumbo-jumbo. I swear official documents have their own language just to give us attorneys headaches.” She looked comfortable sitting cross-legged on the floor. However, her crossed eyes and fingers massaging her temples told a different story.

Apollo sighed and leaned over from his position at the desk. He looked a lot more tense than Athena, sitting with his back straight and dress shirt rolled to his elbows. Except Apollo had a calm intense look as he examined papers. Phoenix could tell when he was in his element and had Justice-mode switched on. “Forget about that one,” he advised after a quick skim, “It’s not that important. We can put it in the pile for later.” She nodded her head and tossed it to another pile. The office really did start to look like a miniature city of paper stacks.

“I’m getting so stiff,” Athena groaned again, stretching her arms over her head.

“Hey,” said Apollo in a cheery voice, “Don’t give up on me now! We can all pull through this together if we keep our spirits up!”

“Don’t worry about me!” she said in return, “I’m not ready to give up, not until all this fiendish paperwork is complete.” She emphasized this by grabbing the next file and reading it intensely as if it was her opponent.

“Anyone need extra fuel?” asked Trucy carrying a fresh pot of coffee. The earthy aroma of ground coffee beans followed her. Apollo held up his empty mug. Phoenix looked at his, half-full, but decided that he would take the friendly offer anyway. They all had a long day ahead of them, after all.

He smiled warmly as his daughter topped him off. It was just nice that his little family could work so well together. Moments like these filled him with a sense of domestic comfort, one that most people found at home. He couldn’t help it, though. His work was his home, and he adored every chaotic minute of it.

The room fell silent again, except for the ruffling of papers and the scratching of pens.

His mind still wandered to that paper and Edgeworth. Ever since talking with Apollo and Trucy, he had been thinking about the whole other half of society he had been missing the past few years, the same society that Edgeworth worked so close with. What was it like for him?

“Hey Athena?” he said while looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Boss?”

“Your friend lives in the monster community, but they’re human right?” he asked just to make sure he didn’t jump to conclusions.

She kept her file open but stopped reading it to talk. “Actually, I’m not sure,” she said with a sheepish smile, “I didn’t really know that their friends were monsters until today. I met them while studying in Europe; Frisk travelled a lot. I guess they’re staying with skeletons now.” That explained everything and absolutely nothing.

Apollo didn’t stop writing as he joined in the conversation, “I never heard of a human living in a monster community... I guess times progress quickly.”

 “Well,” Athena responded, “I think Frisk might be an exception. They seemed more comfortable around monsters than humans.” Athena tilted her head thoughtfully. He wondered if she also thought of the strangeness of someone so accustomed to monsters in their life, since monsters have only been around for about a decade. However, it wasn’t their place to pry, and Phoenix saw nothing wrong with it. The thought actually made him feel better, knowing that a human and monster could coexist in the same community. He smiled and decided to steer the topic to something more casual.

“So how was your time with your friend?” he asked, “You didn’t stay out as long as I thought you would.”

“Oh,” responded Athena, “I thought you wouldn’t want me gone too long.”

“Hey, give me more credit than that,” teased Phoenix, “This is a friend you hadn’t seen a while. I would have understood if you stayed out longer. This mess will always be here for you when you get back.” Apollo snorted from his position at the desk.

“Oh shucks Boss, really,” she said with a happy blush, “I don’t care what anyone else says, working for you is the greatest!”

“Wait? What does everyone else say?” he asked quickly. Either Athena was teasing him or she was completely candid with her compliment. He didn’t know which one was worse. Apollo snorted again, hiding his smile by lowering his face as he wrote.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Wright,” he added earnestly, “You’re not that bad. After all, I came back to work for you.”

“Et tu, Apollo?” Traitors, all of them!

“Yep,” Trucy agreed giving his head a big hug, “You’re the greatest, Daddy.” Well, if this is how they showed love, he might as well take it.

Trucy gasped suddenly and exclaimed, “Oh no! Dad! Where did you put the remote? This is an emergency!” She put her hand to her mouth to emphasize the severity of her distress. Phoenix recognized the motions as part of an act. “Oh where ever could it be? We have only 2 minutes before the live MTT special and the remote is lost in this jungle of papers. Will the brilliant Trucy be able to watch her show in time? Her diligent assistant Polly counts down as Ace Magician Trucy races against time to find the ever-elusive remote.”

Apollo turned in his chair, papers forgotten. “Why don’t you just walk to the TV and press...”

“Her _diligent_ assistant,” Trucy reminded with a wink, “tracks the disappearing seconds as Trucy searches across dimensions for the missing artifact.” Apollo glanced at his watch with the minimal amount of effort. “1 minute, 35 seconds.” Athena and Phoenix were now watching captivated. Trucy twirled her cape and pulled out: a daisy, tossing it; then another cape, twirling it to make that disappear; then widget (HEY!), giving it back to Athena with a silly wink; and finally Mr. Hat, the puppet.

“45 seconds,” Apollo reminded, “43...”

“Mr. Hat? Have you seen the remote for the T.V? What? It’s not in my cape? Are you sure? Well, thank you anyway. You are always the gentleman. What?” She put a hand on her chin thoughtfully, full showmanship mode.

“22...21...”

“My hat?” she said thoughtfully. Mr. Hat was stowed away who knows where. She flipped the hat upside down, she shook it a little bit. A novelty fan, at least three hats tall, dropped out and plunked on the floor. She tipped her hat back on her head and picked the fan up. “So that’s where I left that,” she said with a snap of the fan and a twirl. She hid a smile behind the open fan as she took a small bow. Everyone clapped, but Phoenix clapped the longest. He was completely distracted and forgot the whole lead in to Trucy’s spontaneous performance.

“7...6...,” Apollo supplied helpfully.

“Oh right! The remote! I think I remember where I left it now.” She slipped a hand behind her fan. “Okay, in 3...”

“2...” Apollo added, now smiling. It was one of those rare performances where Apollo’s participation did not lead to an uncomfortable situation. So even he could enjoy this show.

“1...,” Trucy cheered triumphantly as she pulled out the remote as if drawing a sword and pointed it at the T.V. The applause was brief but enthusiastic.

 

* * *

 

That was a thing that happened.

Phoenix did not know how he would describe MTT Live. He did not know he even wanted to attempt to describe it.

The first portion of the show was the conclusion to a poll from last week, “Top Ten Most Gorgeous Person(s) of Influence.” Apollo had predicted that Mettaton would win, and he was not wrong. The glamorous robot stole the contest, scoring high points in mechanical charm, which rocketed him (literally with rocket attachments on his back) above the charts and above the other contestants. A disgruntled cat monster swept the plaster off the floor and off Mettaton after the robot had descended back through the hole in the ceiling that he had blown through.

More shocking than the monster with rocket attachments was the person who scored second place, Miles Edgeworth. It seemed that Edgeworth was popular enough with the monster community to beat several supposedly handsomely shaped monsters. His long-time friend received almost as much raucous applause and catcalls (and socks?) as the dazzling host. Since when were attorneys treated like rock stars... never mind, stupid question.

Phoenix thought about Edgeworth’s efforts for monster reform. He couldn’t help but wonder if this is the response Miles was anticipating. Did he even know? Probably not, this show’s timeslot ran at the same time as the Steel Samurai. He was glad Trucy was recording the program, if only for seeing Edgeworth’s priceless expression when Phoenix showed him how many “Hottie Bottie” points he raked up. The serious prosecutor would turn a darker shade of magenta than his suit.

Phoenix did not have time to think about Edgeworth, as Trucy was poking him in the ribs to pay attention. She had that look that said, “ _I know what you were thinking about.”_ Tricky little magician had no idea what miracle she was trying to pull off. Edgeworth was blind to any sort of attention or admiration. Although, he could spot a contradiction in Phoenix’s case faster than a cobra on a mouse. Trucy poked him again. She really could read his mind when it started to wander down that territory.

There was no easy way to transition back to Mettaton’s show. It didn’t help that Mettaton skipped from one segment to the next like it was going out of style. The transitions between topics was as smooth as a ride down a sandpaper slide. His next guest, who was tossed onto the stage, possibly literally, looked like he had just taken a ride down that very slide.

The guest looked oddly familiar. However, Phoenix could have mistaken him for someone else. Maybe? Phoenix was not sure if he saw him somewhere before or just imagined he had. He was a man of average height and average built – middle aged. The lines on his face alluded to a high stress position. His dark gray suit had only a glimmer of color, a gold chain attached to a pocket watch. He could have belonged to any high profile position. He sort of looked like an amalgamation of non-descript professional stereotypes. Mettaton introduced the man as Cliff Wolf, and a speck of recognition sparked in Phoenix’s mind before it was once again extinguished by the man’s distractingly plain appearance.

Mettaton put a mechanical arm around the man’s stiff shoulders and steered him to a desk and chair that popped up from a trap door. They were quite the odd couple: a man Phoenix could forget in the next half hour, and a monster Phoenix could not forget even if he tried. Mettaton beamed with enough light and sparkle for both of them. He could have led the interview segment with just himself... and that is practically what he did.

“ _So tell me darling, as district chief, what is it like working with the second most gorgeous man? How do you concentrate in the company of beauty that almost matches my own? No need to answer, your silence says it all. You are not the first to be left speechless by my presence_.”

It then clicked with Phoenix, he read about Cliff Wolf recently in the paper, and seen him on a few more occasions with Miles Edgeworth and the Monster Representative. He really did disappear into the background of the paper when standing next to Edgeworth and an inhumanly tall beast man with long horns. He forced himself to pay attention to the program before his mind could wander to Edgeworth again, and before Trucy noticed and drew unnecessary conclusions.

Phoenix did not know much of the man outside of his work with Edgeworth, and after Mettaton’s in depth interview he still knew next to nothing. He just knew that he did not want to be in that man’s shoes. Okay, Phoenix did find out one thing about Chief Wolf. He could juggle up to four non-cutlery items. He also had to give the man some credit for being a good enough sport to go along with Mettaton’s one-on-one juggling duel up until chainsaws were added.

The rest of the program continued in the same haphazard fashion.

Political figures were invited to participate in talent segments; actors were invited to complete mazes and puzzles; and everyone was invited to challenge the robot on the dance-floor.

Mettaton was also a master of promotion. If the promos for his upcoming movie was anything to go by, his movie career was just as bombastic and self-absorbed as his variety show.

An hour into the program, Mettaton announced the premier for the much-anticipated edition to his movie saga: “The Return of Mettaton.” The promo consisted of several clips of Mettaton in shades facing the camera, walking in slow motion, while various buildings and vehicles (including a tricycle) exploded behind him. Phoenix did not understand the entertainment industry.

At this moment, Phoenix was expecting anything to happen. Therefore, when a disco-ball swung into Mettaton and crashed into the set piece, Phoenix thought it was staged. That was until the host hollered some complete nonsense word. He thought it sounded like “ _Burgerpants._ ” but that made little sense. He had to have shouted something else.

While trying to process the last hour or so that was permanently branded into his retinas, the screen went black. Text scrolled across the blank background announcing that the regularly scheduled program would be delayed indefinitely due to technical difficulties. A small white dog replaced the message and stayed.

Apollo sighed and said, “They didn’t even get to the good segments.” Apollo was actually disappointed? Okay, Trucy, he understood. She saw the magic in a lot of things Phoenix didn’t. A part of him appreciated her ability to turn his world upside down with her own unique spin. Apollo, he thought he understood. The young man could see the truth behind the smoke and bring everyone back to reality with his view. Phoenix also appreciated his ability to grasp a situation and bring them all back to solid ground. There was a lot he did not know about Apollo, though. Everything he knew about his employee was thanks to his own investigations and not from the attorney himself. Apollo was not the type to avoid the topic, but he was very focused on his legal career. As he always reminded them, he was a lawyer after all. Phoenix was just curious about what value Apollo saw in MTT Live that others missed.

He did not get the chance to ask Apollo.

“What did you think?” prodded Trucy. Phoenix had his chin propped against his knuckles, trying to appear contemplative.

Athena piped up, saving him for at least a few moments. “It was very avant garde,” she said. If she wanted to use that phrase, Phoenix was in no position to argue.

He felt he had to answer. He couldn’t hold that pose forever. Sooner or later they would catch on to his attempt at stalling. “This show... is the show you want to go on?” He asked Trucy cautiously. Parental concern worked well as an evasive tactic.

“You bet! Looks fun doesn’t it? If I can give an impressive performance, I am sure to get Mettaton’s promotion behind me. Either that or I can wait until I make it big and make a special VIP appearance to broaden my fanbase even more.” Trucy responded. If she already thought this far, she probably already had a 20 step plan prepared.

“Just promise no chainsaws,” said Phoenix.

“I promise no motorized chainsaws,” she replied. That oddly specific promise worried him.

“I... I liked the part where it rained indoors,” he said honestly, impressed with the feat.

Trucy was less impressed. “That was the custodial department. They were just cleaning the stage,” she informed. Why did she have to give him that consoling expression? It wasn’t like he was impressed with a simple sprinkler system. It rained inside the building! A cute little turtle monster with a washtub shell made water out of nothing. You just don’t see that every day!

“Trucy,” he inquired, trying to make sense of it all, “Isn’t magic important to magicians.”

She sighed again, like a teacher with a stubborn student. “Magic and magic are different. An entertainer sells mysteries and a world of fantasy. That’s why movies starring actors as samurai are more popular than documentaries about samurai. People want to watch samurai not samurai. Mettaton understands. That is why he is a monster celebrity. We entertainers have a different magic.” She finished proudly. Nope, he still did not understand entertainers. Perhaps, it was because it was in his nature as a lawyer to expose the truth, or maybe he really was behind the times? After all, he saw nothing wrong with preferring samurai documentaries over samurai movies.

“But it was magic,” he countered.

“That all monsters can do easily,” said Apollo. He actually gave Phoenix an understanding smile. “I’ve been there. It seems unusual at first but you get used to it. It’s like Athena’s ability to hear people’s emotions. You kind of just roll with it after a while.”

“Or Apollo’s ability to see lies,” added Athena.

“Actually, it’s a lot more complicated than...,” started Apollo and never finished.

“Or Daddy’s ability to bluff!” Trucy said enthusiastically.

“And my magatama is just a pretty piece of jewelry then,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Sure,” said Apollo, “Your spiritual powers are rare, but I’ve seen more like it. But I’ve never seen anyone bluff his way out of a tight spot like the great Phoenix Wright.” Athena and Trucy both chuckled. He could live without praise like that.

He pointed an accusatory finger at Apollo and warned, “Don’t forget that the great Phoenix Wright is your boss. Any more lip out of any of you, and you’re all grounded!” Apollo grin grew impossibly wide. It was definitely hard to believe sometimes that these two brats were his employees and not his spoiled children, or that this messy space was a Law Firm (slash Talent Agency), and not a storage space for stage props and random junk.

“I think I should finish my work first,” said Apollo smartly, spinning his chair back around and grabbing a paper without looking at it.

“Me too!” followed Athena, hiding her face behind a folder.

“That reminds me,” said Trucy, bouncing up, “I have a paper to finish for school.” She escaped to the other room.

And just like that, Phoenix bluffed his way out of an awkward conversation about a television show he didn’t understand. He began to wonder if bluffing really was his special power.

 

* * *

 

A couple hours later found Phoenix slumped over the unused piano, fighting off exhaustion. Oddly, when he had slumped on the piano earlier, forgetting to close the covers, the notes his spiked head played were almost passable. Those few chords were the best he played in his whole career as a pianist.

Apollo was still seated at the desk. He had his head in his arms, lazily reading the same lines of legal dialogue repeatedly. He had worked steadily to that point. He slowed down gradually, like a toy running low on batteries.

Athena had her moments of energetic spurts. She worked with vigor that quickly drained her. She saw the finish line and sprinted for it, running until she collapsed halfway. She finished the amount of work Apollo had at a faster rate, but dropped a lot quicker.

Trucy had checked on them a few times, and put a pillow under Athena’s head. She sat next to Phoenix and patted his head. He smiled warmly and sat up, hearing his vertebrae crack in response.

Phoenix was about to call it a night, but someone knocked on the door before he could produce one syllable. A client? He wasn’t expecting a client at this hour, but he should have learned to expect clients always when his guard was down.

The knock sounded again and Phoenix immediately responded, “One minute.” Athena jolted awake with eyes wide open and staring at the door. Apollo shifted to check his watch and look out the window. Phoenix slid off the piano bench and tip-toed past the mess to answer the door.

Two people greeted him on the other side. A young adult with shoulder length hair and down-casted eyes who held onto the coat sleeve of another person. Because of the person’s short stature, he guessed they might have been young as well. However, he couldn’t make out the person’s features from under the blue hoodie. They were slumped with their hands in their pockets, looking as though gravity was heavier where they stood.

A thought clicked in Phoenix’s head. He greeted them with a pleasant smile and asked, “Hello, would your name happen to be Frisk?” Their brows shot up in a moment of surprise.

“Are you Mr. Wright?” they asked in a scratchy voice. He looked at their hand shaking as they grasped onto the jacket of the other person. They still barely moved.

He nodded and kept smiling, not just to be polite, but for the sake of the frazzled young person standing at his door. During hard times, a friendly smile always helped, and this kid looked like they just went through some hard times. “It’s a pleasure to meet a friend of Athena’s” he greeted. Hearing her name, Athena scurried behind him.

“Frisk?” she asked curiously. Her concerned doe eyes searched her friend’s face. She looked between Frisk and their companion, looking more concerned. “What happened?” The office was so quiet that the choked sob in response could be heard clearly from the other side of the room.

“Athena,” they said, “We need your help.”

They let the pair in, Frisk dragging their friend by the sleeve. Phoenix caught a glimpse of stark white under the hood as he passed. However, it was difficult to see clearly, as the person was at least a foot shorter and ducking their head. Phoenix had guessed that this friend did not have skin. He was grateful of Athena’s heads up about Frisk’s skeleton friend. He didn’t want to act shocked and make his guests feel uncomfortable.

“Hey, Sans,” Athena greeted carefully. She patiently waited as the skeleton took a moment to answer.

“hey, kid,” came an unenthused deep voice. “heh, bet’chya thought you wouldn’t see this mug so soon.” He pulled back a hood and Phoenix was greeted with a very different sort of skeleton than he expected. He didn’t know that skeletons could have round features or very expressive faces. He supposed “skeleton-monster” was different from skeleton-human. Wow, how did he manage to have bags under his eye sockets without having skin? Granted, he knew that look well, he just never imagined that expression on a skeleton.

“Why don’t you have a...,” he trailed off while he looked at the mess around the room. The seats they would have was covered with papers. “Sorry, for the mess. I’ll just clear off a spot.” He rubbed the back of his neck. As if meeting a monster for the first time wasn’t enough to be nervous about. He glanced over in Apollo’s direction and noticed his I-knew-this-would-happen look.

“s’no problem,” he said with a shrug, still not looking at Phoenix. He sat with a sort of expert laziness, finding the one spot in the mess able to fit his form. It was quite impressive how he was capable of finding comfort in such a mess.

“Make yourself... comfortable,” he said in a hesitant voice. Really, it didn’t seem like he needed encouragement, as he slumped on Phoenix’s couch with little care. Frisk looked at him with a small smile and mouthed, ‘sorry,’ before wedging into a tiny spot next to the skeleton.

The attorney decided it was best not to comment. It was odd enough inviting a skeleton in his office. When he first started his career, if someone told him he would have to talk to a skeleton, he would have thought they were making a joke. However, now he was considering proper skeleton etiquette, and he could not think of anything that could help him. Law school did not prepare him for this.

“My name is Phoenix Wright,” They already knew that, though. Smooth. “And you already met Athena Cykes. This is Apollo Justice. They both work under me...” Apollo waved from the desk, smiling while watching Phoenix fumble through awkward introductions. “It’s just us, and my daughter Trucy.” Silence. Frisk stared at him contemplatively, as if waiting for a cue, and the skeleton just stared into nothing. It was now difficult to see the pinpricks of lights that made his eyes.

“Frisk,” they introduced after a long pause, “And this is Sans.” Once again, Frisk fell quiet, waiting for a prompt to respond. Well, this was going to be as fun as any normal cross-examination. Phoenix at least was used to leading the conversation.

“Actually, you’re the first monster to come to my office, but I hope I can help all the same,” he spoke honestly, holding a hand out in open invitation. The lighted eyes focused on Phoenix, and he felt a tad like a specimen under a microscope. He preferred when the skeleton was staring at nothing.

After a few awkward seconds, a voice came from the monster, “don’t have any cash on me bud.”

“Um... no sorry,” he responded his hand dropped. Discussion of payment was always a sensitive topic. It was just an understood exchange of services. He did not want his emotionally vulnerable clients to feel as if his support was conditional on payment. “It’s a umm... a handshake. It’s a form of greeting when....”

“it was a joke. i know what a handshake is,” he responded in a low sigh, “i just didn’t feel like..., humph.” He was elbowed in the ribs. Frisk stared at the skeleton until he turned his head. He resumed his intense stare into nothing. The silence that followed was heavier than before, if possible. Phoenix had to put a lot of effort into not slumping. What did he ever do to this skeleton, or skeletons in general?    

Phoenix did not notice his daughter standing idly by until she spoke, “We have coffee if you want any. I can get some other refreshments too. We have plenty of tea for guests because daddy likes to keep it around for Mr. Edgeworth.” _Trucy.._. he almost groaned out-loud. She had to slip in something embarrassing while she defused the situation.

Both guests declined, Frisk with a polite “no thank you” and Sans with a non-committed shrug.

Athena moved some papers at the other edge of the couch and took a seat as she asked, “What’s wrong, Frisk?” The young attorney looked ready to jump off the couch at a moment’s notice in order to fix the problem. In response, the skeleton lowered his eye lights. He was looking at the hand of the young adult who was still grasping his sleeve tensely.

Having nowhere to sit, and nothing to preoccupy himself with - Unlike Apollo who at least could split his attention between paperwork and listening. Phoenix wished he had an excuse to look more relaxed - he leaned awkwardly against the seat. Maybe it was best that Athena handled this one. She had already built a rapport. Besides, he seemed to be striking out tonight.

“It’s Papyrus,” Frisk explained. Without knowing what they meant, Phoenix could already tell that this was a sensitive issue with Sans. He visibly tensed and his eyes grew darker until they were just black voids. “San’s brother. He’s in trouble.”

 


	4. So what if a few people have to die! That's show business!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Sans recant what happened before arriving at Wright Anything Agency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longest delay.  
> Excuse 1: Work. It has been hectic. I have been dealing with a larger caseload and really stretching myself thin.  
> Excuse 2: I was not happy with a lot of scenes for this chapter and rewrote them many times.
> 
> Note: I really should have warn about this in the tags, but Sans is a dick. He's dealing with a lot of crap and he is not giving characters an easy time. Phoenix really doesn't deserve it, but Sans is giving him no chances. A lot of the scenes I had to rewrite was because of Sans. I don't want him to come across as to aggressive, but he isn't cooperative and he isn't giving Phoenix a chance... A shame really because can't you see Phoenix and Sans bumming together as buds in a bar, enjoying ketchup and grape juice? Too bad, this fic has conflict. ^.^
> 
> Note 2: This chapter grew too long. Some scenes that I planned for this chapter will have to wait.

Earlier that day...

 

_POOF_

The room crackled with blue energy as the skeleton and human appeared and landed on the couch. The couch was just as plush they remembered it. Frisk didn’t even feel any impact when they landed on the overly stuffed cushions. They could sink into the cushions and get lost for hours. That was how Sans liked it too; it was his third bed.

“Normally, people just use the stairs,” said Frisk, crossing their legs on the couch and getting comfy. One of the most important rules in the house was make yourself as comfortable as possible and never take your feet off the couch. The second most important rule was to ignore all of San’s rules, which included the first rule. That was Papyrus’s rule.

“what can i say? i’m just steps ahead,” he said while putting his arms above his head and lifting his feet to recline on the cushions.

Immediately, Frisk was alerted to something amiss, something that should be directly in their face. The house lacked a certain amount of Papyrus. There was no sounds coming from the kitchen or from the two bedrooms either. Even if Papyrus wasn’t in his own room, he had a habit of sneaking into San’s room to do a little covert vacuuming. Frisk’s concern for the tall skeleton grew steadily until they were straining to hear a familiar “NYEH-HEH-HEH” and felt more tense when they didn’t. Sans was abnormally laid back considering the unexpected lack of Papyrus. This was even more odd. His over-protective big-brother levels should have exceeded code red. The three things they knew about Papyrus were: he never was quiet; he never was late; and he never was quiet! What was wrong?

“Where’s Paps?” they asked. Frisk started to look in every small crevice, waiting for him to pop up.

“did’ja check the fridge?” Why was Sans looking at them so smugly?

“I’m serious.”

“so am i.”

“You’re never serious,” they argued. However, San’s wasn’t budging, both literally and figuratively, and they had no other leads. They got up and walked to the kitchen to look at the fridge.

The surface of the fridge was, if Frisk could be excused for using the term, an amalgamation of magnets, post its, pictures, clippings, and favorable vacation post cards. With so much on the fridge, it was surprising that a new piece of parchment caught their attention to begin with. A spatula shaped magnet secured it to the center of the fridge. Papyrus’s grand all-caps handwriting spelled out “DEAR FAVORITE HUMAN AKA FRISK.” Even without being present, the tall skeleton was too loud to ignore. They took the note off and read the entire thing.

 

DEAR FAVORITE HUMAN AKA FRISK

 

AS YOU READ THIS NOTE, YOU ARE CURRENTLY UNAWARE OF THE BRILLIANTLY PLANNED DECEPTION THAT HAS ENSNARED YOU. FOR YOU SEE, I, MASTER PARTY PLANNER PAPYRUS, HAVE PREDICTED EVERY MOVE THAT LED YOU TO THIS VERY MOMENT. YOU BELIEVE THAT A SURPRISE SPAGHETTI PARTY AWAITS YOU! THAT WAS A GRIEVE MISTAKE! MY PARTY-PLANNING PROWESS IS UNRIVALED. THE SURPRISE SPAGHETTI WAS MERELY A RUSE TO DISTRACT YOU FROM THE REAL SURPRISE! BE WARNED! THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM THE FUN THAT AWAITS YOU! MEET ME AT GLOBAL STUDIOS AT PRECISELY 3:30... IF YOU DARE!

 

LOVE YOUR COOL FRIEND PAPYRUS

P.S. I’VE PREPARED SURPRISE SPAGHETTI FOR TONIGHT. WE CAN ENJOY A HEALTHY LOVINGLY PREPARED MEAL AFTER WE RETURN FROM THE EVENT THAT YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT AT THE STUDIO WHERE GLAMOUR LIVE IS AIRING 4:00 TO 7:00. 

P.P.S. TELL SANS TO GET HIS FEET OFF THE COUCH!

 

Frisk already had a big grin on their face when they turned around and saw Sans watching them... feet plopped on the couch. The feelings of pride and affection swelled within Frisk. So Papyrus planned two surprise parties, both as a ruse for the other party. Frisk had to admit, they did not see this coming! They did not know how Papyrus did it! This plan was so uniquely him and so uniquely confusing. Was it brilliant or naive... or a bit of both? It didn’t matter. It was Papyrus.

They turned to Sans, who was smiling proudly all the same. They knew what opinion he sided with in regards to his brother.

Frisk could not say they weren’t surprised with Papyrus’ method at least. They knew about Mettaton’s Live Special for months thanks to twitter, Alphys, and #mtthype. It was the first show airing in a human studio, and Mettaton was so excited to have updated sets and an audience chamber with actual seats. He called Frisk at all hours asking for a human opinion. Usually, Frisk was overly eager to hear from their monster friends, since none of them could travel to Europe... legally. However, Mettaton was wearing them down. They actually weren’t sure if they would be able to attend the event in time, but it seemed that Papyrus took care of that.

Frisk carried the letter with them as they sat back on the couch. Well, first they sat on San’s bony legs. Then they moved them out of the way. Then they pushed them off their lap when Sans refused to move from his position. After the third time, it was apparent that he was definitely putting in more effort at teasing Frisk with his “laziness” than actually being lazy. They huffed and sat back. Yep, this was Sans. Why did they like him again?

They sunk into lazy contemplation. Why did they like Sans? Their eyes settled on the smooth white bone on their lap. Upon closer inspection, the surface was not as smooth. Frisk could move their fingers across the tibia and fibula and feel bumps and fissures. The bone reminded them of unglazed pottery, individual in its on imperfection. A lot like human skin... A matter of fact, they knew that skeleton were extra sensitive between bones where muscle would normally be. The many nights of tickle battles with the brothers were forever ingrained in their memory. Sans shifted his leg, nudging Frisk’s ribs, reminding them who had usually won those tickle battles. Dirty cheater used magic.

Frisk took a small moment to let the familiarity of the living room fully sink in. Frisk looked towards the closed off patio where a muslin room divider hid their room from view. Home away from home. Nothing changed, except for the new pictures around the room. Mementos of years past surrounded them in a familiar aura. Papyrus decorating really took off after that online interior design course. He found several creative ways, some un-pasta related, to frame the countless pictures of all their friends and family. It was hard to catch a glimpse of wall to tell what color it was. It was salmon.

Their mind went over the contents of Papyrus’ letter again.

“You know, I never found out what P.S. stood for,” they mused.

“papyrus and sans,” he answered without missing a beat.

“Okay Brainiac, what does P.P.S mean?”

“it means you’re thinking too hard ‘bout letters,” he said. He had his eyes closed, but they knew that he knew they were pouting. “’sides i’m not the one with the brain, college-nerd.”  

Frisk grew silent. They averted their eyes. Though they knew Sans didn’t need to see their eyes to guess what they were thinking. Why did they even go to college? To get a degree? To make Toriel proud? What good had it done for them, for monsters, for anyone? Was it guilt? Regret? Maybe, they should have never left. Or maybe they shouldn’t think that way. It was definitely a dangerous path to follow. Well, at least, they got Athena out of it. Frisk smiled thinking about their friend punching the air enthusiastically, promising to teach them self-defense. It amazed Frisk how they could attract the most amazing friends.

It was just so frustrating. The right course of action always came so easily to them in the past. Although, back then they had supernatural assistance. Supposedly, any decision would be easier with a snarky narration scrutinizing your every ACT.

They pushed the little niggle of worry to the back of their thoughts. Dwelling on the what’s and if’s of the past never eased the burden of the present. Their decisions were etched in stone, and they should be (as inconvenient as it was at times). The people in their life now were worth the burden of past regrets. They just needed to focus on what they had now.

The weight shifted as Sans stood up. Frisk just leaned against the couch chair and rolled over to stuff their face in the cushions, letter sandwiched between their chest and the seat. Their mind drifted lazily as they listened to the skeleton shuffle around the house. They felt like they were drifting on a raft in a lake, or laying on the ground with Naptsablook, feeling like lazy garbage.

They felt a bony poke on their back, then another, then another, and then they heard a few soft chuckles. “already a bad influence on you.”

Turning around, they could look the skeleton straight in the socket. He leaned over the back of the couch with his head cradled in his arms. The position was so naturally Sans, that Frisk almost missed the small envelope dangling from his hand. They pointed at it, still in that lazy state where words were too much of an effort. Sans really was a bad influence.

 

* * *

 

Sans...

Sans usually acted as Frisk’s rock. He sure knew how to point Frisk in the right direction. The less said about he handled his own problems; however, the better. Frisk often used Sans as a crutch; they admitted that. They were headstrong and leaped into situations without thinking. Sans on the other hand was a thinker and cautious. They could always call him when they felt stuck. Usually, Sans was the rational one. He always saw the bigger picture. He may have been laid back and preferred to watch the world go by without him, but that meant had time to absorb the crazy world around them. There were only a few times in Frisk’s memories where they could not rely on Sans for that. Now was one of those times.

Of course, they kept some personal irrelevant details to themselves. Sans was still a very private person. Frisk had a strong feeling that even revealing this much about the personal moments they shared in the sanctity of his home made him feel incredibly vulnerable. Sans liked to choose which sides of him people saw.

They stole a glance at their friend. His eye lights were eerily small. Frisk had just finished recounting the events at the skeleton brothers’ apartment. They kept glancing at Sans to gauge his reactions, and they hadn’t noticed a single change in expression or posture from Sans, which wasn’t too unusual. However, he wasn’t his usual laid back sleepy bones Sans. His body was tense and rigid. Frisk really wished they did not need to repeat the events that caused Sans so much discomfort, but it was necessary. This time Frisk had to be the one to see the larger picture and make the difficult decisions.

Frisk still had a hard time comprehending that they had only found Papyrus’s letter that afternoon. They were still teetering between denial and belief.  How could a day that began with so much hope end with so much uncertainty? They were sitting at a lawyer’s office; the friend with whom they shared noodles with earlier that day, was clutching her fist as if she wanted to pound Frisk’s problems away. Bless Athena. They needed someone to focus on as a sort of safety line for the moment. 

“...letter?” Mr. Wright’s voice cut through Frisk’s train of thought.

“Sorry, I missed what you said,” they replied. Their mother always told them that they should acknowledge that person with eye contact if they were sincerely sorry. They were grateful to find empathy in the lawyer’s eyes. Frisk was relieved that Mr. Wright was as mild as he was. They were a little intimidated about talking to the lawyer after seeing him battle in court. They also felt kind of bad that Sans wasn’t in the mood to give anyone new the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t know much about Mr. Wright, but it was apparent he was trying his best to help. Watching the man awkwardly stumble through introductions was painful. Frisk felt a strong desire to help the man out; although, they barely knew him.

“Did Papyrus mention anything else in the letter?” he asked again. His voice was thoughtful and soft.

They answered in the blink of an eye, “No.” Frisk must have read that note at least seven times. “Is it important?” they asked inquisitively.

“I don’t know, yet,” he said. He did not seem to lose his composure despite being less than certain that his inquiry may hold no relevance whatsoever. Was he what they called a gambling man?

“I have the letter with me. If that helps,” Frisk supplied. They already committed to helping to make the lawyer’s life a little easier. Just because they didn’t understand his line of logic, didn’t mean they would back down from a commitment.

They took out the letter, now folded into neat squares. If this were any other day, they would have paid attention to the small photo they unknowingly jostled out of their pocket. However, they had too much on their mind after a day like that and paid no attention to the photo that tumbled out and wedged itself between the cushions along with two pieces of monster candy. They unfolded it and looked at the familiar tall important looking letters before holding it up.

“What’s that on back?” the girl (Mr. Wright’s daughter if Frisk remembered correctly. Her name was Trucy.) She spotted it almost immediately. Flipping the letter around, Frisk noticed for the first time that it was written on the back of a brochure for MTT Live. Papyrus must have used the brochure as a hint, assuming Frisk would see it and put together all the pieces. They decided prematurely to not tell Papyrus that they missed the clue. They figured out the surprise regardless, but Papyrus always took pride in his puzzles. Papyrus... what was he doing now? They shook that thought from their mind. Frisk needed to focus on the task at hand.

“It’s a program for MTT Live,” the caped girl observed. She looked no older than a high school student, but she was the first to pick up on that detail and draw attention to it.

Athena was the one to ask, “Do you mind if we take a closer look?” Frisk was free to say “no” but that was not an option. They could have the shirt on their back if it meant it would help Papyrus.

Frisk was fascinated by the careful procedure and care used when Athena took the letter. She smoothed it out, careful to use the gloved parts of her hands, took a picture of the best angles on both sides. Mr. Wright’s daughter seemed to have disappeared and reappeared suddenly with an evidence bag. “We might need to preserve it and present it as evidence to the court,” she explained. She didn’t move to take the note until Frisk gave them their permission.

After the momentum of their first evidence, the room seemed to slow down again into another uncomfortable stillness. The only sound was from Mr. Justice at the desk tapping his pen on the paper.

“as exciting as this is,” Sans spoke in a dull voice, “can we move this along. i’m bone tired,” Sans spoke. If Frisk didn’t know any better, they could have sworn Sans used his magic to make the air heavy. Even his words, as light-hearted as they were, carried a certain weight when he used that tone. They felt their heart drop a bit. Honestly Sans, resorting to sarcasm?

“Sans...,” they began but bit their lip. Sans looked in their direction, a light flickering momentarily in their sockets. That was all. Sans was on guard. There were too many new people and factors that Sans couldn’t control. Frisk had no hope of penetrating his defenses while he felt this vulnerable.

They shifted their attention to Athena, needing a familiar comforting face. Their concerned friend furrowed her brows as she concentrated on Sans. Frisk could tell that she was trying to figure him out. Athena would probably have the best chance of breaking through Sans. However, Sans was aware of that as well. Athena cracked Sans once. He would not leave himself susceptible to her powers a second time on the same day.

Widget was red with concentrated fury showing the volcano of emotions hidden behind Athena’s concerned mask. Oh. She probably sensed the trepidation in Frisk’s tone when they talked to Sans. Her protective streak was a mile long. Unfortunately, this could cause her to jump to the wrong conclusion in her haste to defend her friends. Hopefully, she consulted Frisk before deciding to punch Sans. He hadn’t done anything that bad... yet. They gave Athena a small smile. They would be fine. They were strong enough to handle this. They were determined.

“Sans,” they spoke diplomatically, “We’re the ones who need their help. You said you would give this a chance. You promised....” Their friend sighed in defeat. Sans did not have to say he didn’t want to be there. It was plain to everyone in the room. The look he gave Frisk; however, was just for them. They had used the magic word, ‘promise.’ Nothing else they could have said would have held that amount of weight.

 

* * *

 

Sans was hard-pressed to find anything less amusing than sarcasm. Sarcasm was the backhand of the comedy community. It required little thought or talent to take a situation and flip it to mean the opposite. Sarcasm was rarely for the benefit of the audience and more often than not fed into the nihilism of the user. Sans would have to be in a pretty dark place before he resorted to using sarcasm. He really disliked being reminded of that side of himself. It always left a bitter taste in his mouth, which was impressive because he didn’t have a tongue. He was not a fan, but everyone had their own taste in comedy. If Sans had to pick something else less appealing..., Mettaton would be a close second. He wouldn’t say he disliked the robot, but he wouldn’t say he understood the appeal either. His talent was... himself. He was a black hole of vacuous entertainment. Mettaton sucked attention away from activities that Sans found more valuable. Mettaton was a genius at marketing and selling himself. Sans didn’t understand the MTT brand or marketing machine and he didn’t have the energy to keep up.

He was not a huge fan of Mettaton, but he was a huge fan of his brother. No one brought more amusement and unbridled positive energy into his life. And if a few MTT brand fashion basket balls and tickets to Glamour Live made Papyrus happy, he would put up with one narcissist robot. He just needed to see the stars in Papyrus’s eyes and hear his excited squeal to be okay with slouching in the in the sticky chairs in row 38. He was sandwiched between Frisk and a sardine... sardine-guy was a little slimy. Sarcasm..., Mettaton..., and Vinyl..., three things he could live without.

He looked over at Frisk and Papyrus next to each other. Both were watching the show with rapt attention. Papyrus still had his gloved hands to his face in the same amused gasp, as if every moment was the first time he watched Mettaton on stage. A prickling sense of irritation crawled up San’s spine. He didn’t like it, but at least that stupid attention stealing robot brought joy to his brother’s life. His attention shifted to Frisk and found his mood lifting somewhat. Their fists were balled up with barely concealed anxiety as they watched Mettaton juggle increasingly sharper props. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. He could count on them to be worried over staged danger.

When he was convinced that Papyrus and Frisk wouldn’t miss him, he slipped into a nearby shortcut he found earlier that led straight to a convenience store, a very convenient store.

He spent the rest of that evening teleporting between places, checking if he was missed (he wasn’t), and discretely smuggling rotary hotdogs onto Frisk’s head. Hey, a guy needed some amusement in his life! He actually only had one regret that night, and that was missing what was arguably the best moment in Mettaton’s show.

He had teleported back to his seat for the last time and came eyesocket to eye with a miffed human. The seats were already half empty as the audience ambled to the exits. Hushed conversation bounced off the chamber walls and blended together until it was barely comprehensible as actual language. Stray hotdogs had rolled down several empty aisles. Mettaton was still on stage, but he definitely was not at his usual showman best. His robot tubes of arms were crossed against his shiny chest plate as he demanded the stagehands to clean his face. The busted disco ball in the center of the stage was indeed in the shape of Mettaton’s face, if that face had imploded. Above the stage, a flashy billboard, that was once advertising MTT products, now flashed TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.

“We missed you,” Frisk said in greeting. That tone. Sans wasn’t in trouble, but he was not getting away with any more hijinks that night, at least not without a guilt trip.

“whoops, i seemed to have missed out on quite the party. so... what happened here, and where did all these apostrophe’ dogs come from?” He asked, trying not to be a smart ass and failing miserably. He wasn’t really trying that hard.

The human sighed, nudging a ‘dog away with their toe. Their lips twitched almost too quickly to notice, but Sans was Sans. He grinned wider and rocked casually on his tarsals waiting for their reply. Looking away from the cocky skeleton, Frisk explained, “During the performance, the ball suddenly swung and....” They bit their lip. The chuckle that almost escaped their mouth instead came out of their nose as a snort. “...knocked Mettaton off his feet,” they finished in a rush.

“sounds like a real knock-out.” With a strained look from Frisk, he added, “okay, i’ll knock it off. so then where’s papyrus?”

“He’s looking for you. He thinks you had something to do with that.”

“wouldn’t put it past me,” he commented with a smart wink. Trying not to be a smart-ass was hard. He could already imagine Papyrus stomping off grumbling about Sans’ and his ill-timed pranks. He almost wanted to take credit to validate that image. He wished he had done it. What happened here was a work of art.

“welp, better go find him so he can scold me properly.”

Frisk took out a ‘dog from their front pocket and waved it in front of his nasal cavity. He went cross-eyed at the floppy sausage. Either this was a very awkward proposition or the most ill-attempted form of scolding. Both were hilarious when paired with Frisk’s determined expression. “I’m still not done explaining what happened. When the ball fell, I was so startled, a stack of ‘dogs that mysteriously appeared on my head tumbled onto the seats in front of me.” The funniest part was, Frisk must have held as still as a statue until that moment, totally held captive by the drama as ‘dogs piled higher on their head.

“wow, what kind of classless joker would stack eleven ‘dogs on your head?” He joked in complete honesty. Sans was sans class.

Since they were both at a standstill. Frisk knew exactly where the ‘dogs came from and Sans knew he wasn’t fooling anyone but finding it too entertaining to feign innocence than come clean, they abandoned the audience chamber and the ‘dogs behind.

The duo easily maneuvered around the crowd of humans and monsters. The human to monster ratio was considerably uneven, with about 20 humans per monster, but it still was the largest gathering of humans and monsters Sans had ever seen. He had a momentary lapse of respect for Mettaton for being able bridge a lot of inter-species gaps through entertainment. It was the first time Sans was able to walk around a human crowd without drawing so much unwanted attention. Granted, he still received some stares, skeletons were still a rare and alarming sight, but it wasn’t as noticeable.

“Mettaton is really popular,” said Frisk in slight awe. It was kind of inconvenient. How could a skeleton maneuver around such a crowded place? He really wanted to know, how that was possible, as he couldn’t spot Papyrus in the crowd anywhere.

“who knew the robot would be such a _hit_ ,” said Sans. He didn’t get a rise out of Frisk, but he did go for the predictable pun. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “well, i guess they all can’t be _wieners_.” He had to give credit to Frisk’s poker face. Nothing Sans said could shake their focus as they looked for Papyrus. If he was being honest, his heart really wasn’t in it. He couldn’t stop thinking how odd it was that they hadn’t found Papyrus. He was at least a foot taller than most people and twice as loud.

“I’m going to call him,” said Frisk. They stopped suddenly, so Sans bumped into their back. Since he was tired, he just leaned forward on Frisk’s back.

“s-good plan,” he mumbled into their shirt. He should have thought of that, would have saved him a lot of walking. Sans never thought his mind would be as lazy as his body.

“Um Sa....” Frisk was interrupted by a high pitched siren. Siren? He did not know any monster that made that shrill of a sound, and could hold a note for that long. No, the sound was unmistakably man-made. Police sirens, several of them drawing closer. He kept thinking over and over, “ _keep driving past us. keep driving past us.”_ Despite that, the sirens only grew louder until he couldn’t pretend that they were not coming their way. He did not want to look up to confirm his suspicions.

He pulled himself from his comfortable leaning position and looked around. He wasn’t the only concerned face. Whatever mess was going on, it was not good for anyone. He needed Papyrus in front of him now! If there was a fair god in the world who finally decided to give his fucked up existence a break, then they would pass by the studio. Blue and red lights blared through the windows. He pinched the bridge of his nose, or where it would be if he had one. Nothing could be easy.

Frisk quickly whipped out their cell. Either they sensed his growing concern or acted on their own instinct. He hoped it was the former. He could write off his apprehension as a side effect of his matured sense of fatalism from compounded years of the universe screwing him over, but if Frisk was worried, his concerns were suddenly more grounded in reality.

The sirens stopped, but Sans was too focused on the dull rings echoing from Frisk’s phone to pay them anymore attention. Three rings. Four rings. The chorus of paranoid voices grew harder to ignore. Five rings. Sans was seconds away from teleporting. He didn’t know where he would go, but anything was better than watching Frisk white-knuckle clutch the phone as a dial tone rang in a very not-Papyrus way.

His left eye throbbed with magic for a second. But then he heard the beautiful bellowing voice of his brother clearly over the chaos and was able to relax. “HELLO DEAR FRIEND. I APOLOGIZE FOR MY TARDINESS. AS GREAT AS I AM, I DID NOT QUITE REACH MY EXCEPTIONAL EXPECTATIONS TONIGHT. I HOPE YOUR UNDERSTANDABLY HIGH CONCERN FOR ME WAS AT MANAGEABLE LEVELS.” Frisk smiled with watery eyes. They were so concerned for Papyrus. Sans felt like a heel. He would have left Frisk in distress over his narrow-sighted concern for his brother’s safety. He would have deserved the double lecture from both Papyrus and Toriel for acting so selfishly.

Frisk said, “I’ll be okay Papyrus. Sans is with me.” That was the sensation of a knife twisting in his metaphorical gut.

“WELL, THAT IS ONE MYSTERY SOLVED. THANK YOU FOR FINDING MY BROTHER. IT IS A RELIEF TO KNOW I DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HIM WHILE I HELP THESE FINE LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICIALS WITH MY EXCEPTIONAL DEDUCTIVE SKILLS.” What? Wait... What? Frisk and Sans shared a wide-eyed look, silently asking each other if they heard the same thing.

Frisk asked, “Papyrus, what happened?” at the same time Sans blurted out, “were is he?”

Papyrus’ loud voice dropped a decimal as he turned to address someone else. It was still loud enough for Sans to hear him say, “OH RIGHT! IT IS RATHER RUDE OF ME TO TALK ON THE PHONE IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR CONVERSATION. I WILL BE BUT A MOMENT, PAL!” He addressed Frisk again in a cheery voice, “I AM MAKING FRIENDS SO EASILY TONIGHT. WE CALL EACHOTHER ‘PAL!’ THAT’S OUR THING! THESE OFFICERS ARE SO FRIENDLY BUT HONESTLY JUST A LITTLE INSECURE. KEEP ASKING FOR MY INPUT. THEY’RE ALREADY LOST WITHOUT MY SUPPORT. I FEEL SO NEEDED! BUT DO NOT WORRY. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN OUR VERY IMPORTANT PLANS. I AM CERTAIN ONE OF MY NEW PALS CAN GIVE ME A LIFT HOME TONIGHT AND THEN YOU CAN HAVE ALL THE UNCENSORED BEST BUDDY TIME YOU CRAVE. NYEHEHEHEH.”

“Wait! Papyrus!”

“I KNOW IT IS HARD TO PART. BUT I KNOW YOU ARE STRONG ENOUGH TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. HOWEVER, IF YOU NEED SOME CONSELATION, YOU ALWAYS HAVE SANS’ LESS-THAN-GREAT-BUT-STILL-PASSABLE COMPANY.” The sound of the call being disconnected sounded as loud as a door slamming to Sans.

A voice carried over the crowd through a megaphone. “Everyone stay where you are and remain calm.”

The world slowly came back to focus as he stared at the static profile picture of Papyrus posing with sunglasses. His arm moved by itself. He looked down and saw Frisk’s hand tugging at his sleeve. He looked up. Their face slowly came into focus. How could they look at him like that? Like they were actually concerned over him when he didn’t have any room to think about himself. They tugged more persistently on his sleeve, as if they could sense his thoughts and were trying to pull him back.

 “Don’t do anything rash, please,” they pleaded. Actually, he was planning that. They might not have even noticed him teleport away, just like during Mettaton’s show. “Not without me at least,” Frisk added sternly.

Sans didn’t know how to respond to that. If they had simply left it at “ _don’t do anything stupid_ ,” Sans would have found a way around it by justifying his actions with a plan and easy escape route. “ _Take me with you on your stupid plans_ ,” saddled him with extra responsibility. Suddenly those “justified actions” seemed way too risky with Frisk involved. His shoulders dropped. Nothing was ever simple.

“you honestly think tori will let me live if i put you in any risk?” he half joked. He would not blame Toriel either. If his stupid actions ever put his loved ones in danger, he would deserve to be roasted to ash.

Frisk rolled their eyes. “You’re not going to put me in any situation I can’t handle.... I just don’t want to leave my friends alone anymore, not if I can be there.” He almost forgot what a pain in the ass Frisk was to look after. Asking them to sit still and let others to take the risk for them was not an option. He partly understood why Toriel insisted Frisk went to school in another country. The minute trouble brews; Frisk throws themselves face first into the mess.

“how can i say no to that?” he gave in. He punctuated his remark by mussing up Frisk’s hair. Because of the height difference, he had to stretch a bit, and Frisk had to duck their head. They both needed the friendly familiar gesture though. Frisk could certainly put on a brave face, but they were just as lost as Sans.

“So you’re not just gonna leave me alone to do something stupid by yourself?” they pleaded with intense eyes.

Sans had to steal himself. He felt every instinct urging him to take the nearest escape route. It would be so easy to teleport and handle the problem himself. If he didn’t commit, he could never fail Frisk. The look they gave him; however, said they trusted him more than he trusted himself.

“of course not pal, we’re partners.”

“Partners?”

“yep! we’re gonna save paps together,” he consoled Frisk but mostly himself.   “promise.”

  

 

 

 


End file.
